A Stopgap Measure
Mon Mothma said sharply, "There are many ways we can handle our relationship with the Fourth Empire, and direct confrontation is the worst possible option! Are you saying that we should launch a full-scale arms race for a power that may not even be hostile to us? Do you really believe that is the path our future Galactic Republic should take?"
She pointed directly at the data provided by Bail-Garm-Iblis. "Are we supposed to begin by entering an arms race we are destined to lose?"
Borsk Feliya's tone turned cold. "Then what do you mean? As the inheritors and rebuilders of the Galactic Republic, are we supposed to stand by and watch half of the territory that once belonged to the Republic be carved away?"
"We can try to coexist with them. We have no other choice," Mon Mothma said. "Do you think accepting those warlords who have defected from the Galactic Empire means we can win this war? No! A war with the Fourth Empire cannot, and need not, break out at all!"
"Must our national security rest on the hope that they will not attack us? That is absurd!" Bail-Garm-Iblis snapped.
"Accepting bloodstained warlords like Seben will not make us stronger! On the contrary, if people like that cause us to lose our convictions, then we will only become weaker!" Mon Mothma shot back.
Bail-Garm-Iblis had long been displeased with Mon Mothma. He sprang to his feet, ready to retort, but Padmé Amidala raised a hand and stopped everyone from arguing.
As the revered founding "leader" of the Rebel Alliance, even Borsk Feliya had no choice but to shut his mouth and stare silently at her hologram.
Bail-Garm-Iblis was like an enraged beast, his chest heaving as he glared viciously at Mon Mothma.
Padmé Amidala